Chevy Stevens - Still Missing

My first image on opening my eyes after my meltdown at the cop shop was of Mom and Gary standing at the foot of my hospital bed. There was no sign of Wayne. I didn’t notice Diane sitting on a chair beside me until I heard her say, “Look who’s up.”

She gave me a kind smile and I remembered her rocking me, which made my cheeks burn. Then Mom realized I was awake and almost knocked the IV out of my arm as she crawled halfway on top of me, sobbing, “My baby, my poor Annie Bear.”

Whatever shit they’d given me was starting to make me nauseous, so I said, “I’m going to be sick,” then burst into tears. A doctor reached for my arm and I pushed him away. Then there were more hands holding me down and I was fighting all of them. I felt a prick in my arm. The next time I woke up, my stepdad was sitting beside me with his cowboy hat clutched in his hands. As soon as I opened my eyes he jumped out of the seat.

“I’ll go get Lorraine—she just went to make a call.”

“Let her finish,” I whispered. My throat was sore from screaming, and the drugs had dried it out. “Could you get me some water?”

He patted me on the shoulder and said, “I better find one of the nurses.” With that he was out the door, but the drugs kicked in again and I was asleep by the time they came back.

Hospitals are strange places—doctors and nurses touch and prod your body in areas you would never let an ordinary stranger near, and I had at least two panic attacks that first day. They put me on something for the anxiety, then something at night that made me wake up feeling hung over, then something for the nausea. It was a small hospital, so I usually got the same nurse, and she always called me honey in the gentlest voice. It made me tear up every time and I wanted to tell her to stop, but in my shame I just turned my face away until she was done. Before she left the room she’d run her warm hand down my forearm and squeeze my fingers.

On my second day in the hospital, when I was a little calmer, Gary told me the Crown was reviewing all the information I’d given at the station, and they’d be deciding whether to charge me with anything.

“Charge me ? For what?”

“There was a death, Annie. No matter what the circumstances we still have to go through the process.”

“Are you arresting me?”

“I don’t think the Crown will go in that direction, but I still have a duty to inform you of the situation.” At first I was scared, and kicking myself for not getting a lawyer, but when I looked at Gary’s flushed face I realized he was embarrassed as hell.

“Well, if the Crown does decide to charge me, they’re going to look like a bunch of assholes.”

Gary grinned and said, “You got that right.”

He started asking me a couple of questions about The Freak, and when I reached up to scratch my neck, I realized I wasn’t wearing the necklace anymore.

Gary said, “The doctors took it off when you were admitted. You’ll get it back when you’re released—it’s with your personal effects.”

“The necklace wasn’t mine. He gave it to me—he said he’d bought it for another girl.”

“What other girl? Why didn’t you say anything about this before?”

Hurt by his abrupt tone, I said, “I got used to wearing it, so I forgot—maybe if you guys backed off on the questions once in a while I’d have had a chance to tell you. Besides, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been a little distracted.” I shook my arm with the IV in it at him.

In a calmer voice he said, “Sorry, you’re right, Annie. We’ve been hitting you with some hard questions, but it’s really important you tell us everything. ”

Over the next couple of days I tried to fill him in on what I knew of The Freak’s history—including his mother, his father, and the female helicopter pilot. Gary often stopped me with questions and sometimes his body was stiff with tension as he leaned toward me, but he was careful to keep a calm tone of voice and he let me get the story out at my own speed. If we talked about the rapes, or The Freak’s schedule and system of punishments, his hand would tighten on the pen as he took notes, but he was good about keeping a neutral expression. Half the time I couldn’t look at him. I’d stare at the wall, counting cracks, and recite my abuses like I was listing the ingredients to a recipe from hell.

Mom insisted on staying by my side when he talked to me and she usually sent my stepdad to get a coffee—I’ve never seen a guy look so relieved. If I hesitated for even one second when Gary asked me something, Mom jumped in saying I looked tired or pale and suggested we call one of the doctors, but I thought she was the one who looked pale, especially when I talked about the rapes. And she developed this habit of tucking the blanket tight around me. The harder the words, the tighter she tucked, like she was trying to contain them within me. I didn’t appreciate the attention, but I knew she had to be feeling pretty helpless, listening to what I went through, and hell, if it made her feel better…Besides, I didn’t have enough strength to fight her.

On my third day in the hospital, Gary told me that the cabin being so customized had helped convince them I was telling the truth, and he was pretty sure the Crown wasn’t going to be putting forth any charges. Diane had stopped coming along by then, and Gary said she’d gone back to Clayton Falls to handle “other aspects of the investigation.”

I tried to be patient when Gary asked me to describe the same things over and over again, because I knew they were having a hard time identifying The Freak. It didn’t help that he didn’t have any fingerprints. They extracted some DNA but Gary said that’s only useful if they have something to compare it to, and there weren’t any hits in their system. The Freak’s face wasn’t looking so good after he’d been left in a hot metal shed, so they took a photo and touched it up on the computer, but they weren’t getting any workable leads. When I asked about dental records Gary said they weren’t conclusive. Even the van wasn’t helping them. It had been stolen, along with the plates from another van, from the parking lot of a local mall that didn’t have a security camera.

“Do you think we’ll ever find out who he was?” I said one day. “Or who the other girls he hurt were?”

“Anything you remember can help us.”

I sat up so I could look him straight in the face. “Don’t give me a line from a police training manual—I want to know what you think. What you really think.”

“Honestly, I don’t know, Annie, but I’m going to do everything in my power to get you an answer. You deserve that.” There was an intent fervor in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. “It would be a lot easier if your mom wasn’t here when we’re talking. You okay with that?”

“Yeah, it is pretty hard to talk about this in front of her.”

When Mom came back in, reeking of cigarettes, Gary said, “I think it would be best if I did the interviews alone, Lorraine.”

She held my hand and said, “Annie should have family with her.”

“It upsets you too much, Mom.” I gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll be okay.”

She looked back and forth between Gary and me.

“If that’s what you want, Annie Bear, but Wayne and I will be sitting right outside if you need us.”

In between my getting interviewed by Gary and prodded by doctors, the next couple of days were a blur. It was bad enough I wasn’t allowed to leave because I was dehydrated, among other things. After my meltdown at the police station and my reaction at the hospital, the doctors were concerned that I might be a danger to myself and wanted to keep me for observation. But then after a few raging nightmares and another panic attack, triggered by an interview with Gary, they started playing with my doses—up and down I went, and it was getting increasingly hard to separate my dreams from life. I’d hear a baby cry and think they’d found mine or I’d wake up with a doctor leaning over me, and in a panic, thinking it was The Freak, I’d push him away. I lived in terror all over again as my last bit of control slipped away to pharmaceuticals.